


Welcome to Atlantic Island Park

by Hybridlizard



Category: The Park - Fandom, The Secret World
Genre: F/M, Horror, OC X CANON, OC/Canon, Romance, Secret World - Freeform, Secret World Legends - Freeform, The Park, The Secret World - Freeform, atlantic island park, super natural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 20:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20120905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hybridlizard/pseuds/Hybridlizard
Summary: No stranger to the super natural and the secret world that lies just below the veil of normality, Chris travels the world to salvage forgotten relics and research on the subject of magic. When she follows the money trail of the late eccentric millionaire and would-be self proclaimed magus, Nathaniel Winter, her ventures bring her to the long since abandoned Atlantic Island Park, and more or less, the source to that which she seeks.





	1. The Park

Chris stepped lightly through the dark abandoned amusement park, the shadows playing, dancing at the corner of her vision. She could swear a presence loomed and teased her peripheral at every turn she made, never seen, but just enough to evoke the terror building in her core.

The mist that rolled in from the surrounding forest seemed to tangle and stick to her ankles like spiderweb. She knew there was a supernatural presence to the land, it was part of the entire reason she would enter such a place. Just one of many blights on the history of the island. But the exact extent of it’s nature, remained out of her reach.. This ignorance was by her own choice, at least.. compared the means previously offered to her. She would dig for her own treasure, as she always had.

Instead, she had followed the trail of an eccentric entrepreneur, poking and prying into the secret world as an outsider, just as she had in her recent years, not necessarily by desired choice. The wealthy catching wind of the occult- the world that lay just beneath the veil of normality was not uncommon, but most lost interest without official recognition or profit. But not Winter..

The park- Atlantic Island Park, that he had built on the quiet island was far from profitable. Between the chain of freak accidents and following lawsuits, the investment if anything, was a blood thirsty leech on his fortune.

So what purpose did the park truly serve for the late billionaire, why this location? Chris intended to find out, and if intuition favored her, valuable knowledge was to be gained. A precious dirtied gem passed over by those who would deem themselves higher than to be bothered digging in the dirt.

She had read that the former park tycoon had stayed behind as the gates to the park were closed permanently, only for a body to be found soon after, and presumed dead. “Why would you stay behind.. and where did you stay..where did you keep your “treasure” Winter..”.

She brushed her finger across a dirtied map of the park over the various attractions. The park contained no particularly large buildings, unless.. “The house of horrors.?” Not truly a house mind you, but perhaps still the most likely candidate. The house of horrors sat near the entrance, thankfully, less wading through overgrown grass and whatever hides within it.

When did the sun set? She had been so focused on the map and her own thoughts the shift in reality around her went unnoticed, but it was undeniable. The sun should not set for at least another 4 hours, and the miasma that lay over the park like a wet blanket was gone. There was something else here, but it was almost…peaceful. Refreshing as stepping out of a loud club and into the silent night. Still, not a time to lower her guard.

Quickening her pace, she stepped her way towards the structure while pulling a flashlight from her pack. The moon was full and bright here, but that would do little once inside.

-

The entrance to the house of horrors is exactly as one should expect of a “house of horrors”. The elongated face of a witch, mouth wide and open for swallowing unsuspecting victims, soulless eyes piercing into you no matter your perspective on the structure. Chris couldn’t help but feel she was willingly stepping into the hungry mouth of a beast, but there was no turning back at this stage. Choosing to ignore the shadow just outside the corner of her vision, she proceeded inside.

The layout was your typical funhouse, dead ends and trick mirrors, although it was likely more effective in inducing spooks to it’s visitors in it’s current run-down abandoned state than it was in it’s prime.

“AH HAHAHAHAHA!” Chris quickly grabbed the sword that hung from her back as she turned, piercing through presumably her attacker without hesitation. It was only when she attempted to pull the blade back and the fog of panic cleared from her eyes she could see that her attacker was nothing more than a wooden cut-out of a monster with some back lighting. A cheap jump scare.

But the lighting..? Where was the power coming from. There was certainly no electricity… but there was a power.. she could sense it now. It stretched across the land like the circulatory system of a living breathing entity, and it all seemed to focus back here, to the very heart of the park. She was definitely where she intended to be.

Descending deeper into the structure, now most certainly below ground, surprised to find no locked doors or other wards, she was starting to feel welcomed in.. no..lured. Whatever suspicions and fear that grew inside her were pushed to the back of her mind as she stepped into a vast library, filled with clearly old and rare books. Unorganized notes were scattered across the floor and tucked away between bookshelves. “Yes…yes! Jackpot!”

She didn’t even need to look into the contents of the library to know that nearly every piece in here touched on magic and the supernatural, she could sense it by simply running a finger along the binds, it was what she was most skilled at. All of this knowledge, tucked away and forgotten. She had never truly known what the excitement of a joyful Christmas morning could be like, but she could bet it was something like this. All of this, all to herself..

“You’re trespassing on private property, girl..”

The temporary joy broken, reality came crashing back in. She swung on her heel to turn, sword still in hand, but with hesitation to strike this time around.

With her other hand, she shined her light into the shadows of the room aiming towards the source of the voice. This presence was no jump-scare, this was what appeared to be a very real human being. An older man, hair gray and eyes faded. He wore a fanciful suit, topped with a high top hat, and an ornamental cane in hand. At least, that’s what a first glance would say, or to the untrained or ungifted eye, would cement itself as the case.

Something wasn’t quite right with his presence, staring at this man, this being, was like staring into the sun and the static of a tv all at once. She grit her teeth, her head beginning to throb as she made an attempt to focus. She now realized the figure in front of her was the spitting image of an old welcome sign located at the park entrance. “You’re… Nathaniel Winter? You can’t be… unless..?”

“You meddle in affairs best left to the pages of fairy tales.. I can sense your fear, and so does the park. A fools guise you wear in attempt to hide your terror..” Even the mans voice was unnatural- deep, guttural, echoing over itself, not quite bound to the physical realm.

Chris averted her eyes, despite how vulnerable it made her feel. “A fools guise… like that illusion you cloak over yourself? It’s giving me a damn migraine..”

An unnatural toothy grin spread across the mans face. “Ahh.. so you can see it. You don’t appear to be with..them.. Curious, that you would enter willingly, while sensing the jowls closing in on you. Your fear.. I can taste it, and so has this land, but it’s not quite ripe for the picking..yet”

Chris could only let out a sarcastic chuckle to mask the fear building within her. “Well then, I hope you like your fruit bitter. Yes, I’m terrified. Can’t recall a day I haven’t been.. but I wouldn’t be here if that had ever stopped me, I wouldn’t be here if that didn’t give me purpose. Reality is my foundation, truth is my grounding. My strength, is in understanding. I don’t know if you’re truly the old owner of this land, or some spirit using him as a mask, but whoever or whatever you may be.. go ahead, sweeten me up, if you can”

The figure in the shadows merely stood in silence for a moment, studying her. If this really were a spirit, it would unlikely give critical thought to her words. Old world spirits are beasts of action, not consideration.

The glare and static that burned her vision began to ease and dissipate, the figure she had seen until now fading into the shadows just as it had stepped out of them. In it’s place, a new figure stepped out into her light. This figure was tall, unnaturally, like over-stretched taffy. A hand moved into view, the skin a sickly green grasping the same cane as before, the clothing the creature wore was much like before, but torn and stitched together, ragged and old. Another hand grasped around the cane… no.. a single finger, not unlike a tentacle with one sharp nail at it’s tip. As it’s stilt like legs pulled the entity closer towards Chris, now looming over forcing her to look up, the grotesque face was now in full view.

Skin twisted, lips melting, teeth overgrown, abundant and stained yellow all pulled into an wide grin. This was the the creature the townsfolk whispered in their stories, this was the shadow under your bed, the monster in your closet. The Bogeyman was real.

“Are you satisfied with your reality, girl?”


	2. Inquisitor

_“Are you satisfied with your reality, girl?”_

Chris didn’t answer, not that she didn’t hear- but more so due to her enthrallment in the creature that stood before her. Her eyes were wide with fear and wonder alike. She was locked in quite possibly the most unsettling staring contest one could be in. The entities eyes were dark, you could easily mistake them as empty pits and not eyes at all from a distance. The iris was glazed over and white, but with a noticeable light emitting from the depths, amplified by the shadow cast over them by the brim of the hat they wore.

The eyes were cold, calculating, they felt predatory, and yet.. something was very human in the subtle twitches they made while studying her. “You are him.. aren’t you? Nathaniel Winter, that is..?”

The light emitting from the eyes almost seemed to dim as he tore his gaze away, turning towards the shelf of books and stroking a finger across the bind of the same book she had done the same with just moments ago. “Yes… I believe so”

He believed so? Was he unsure of his own identity?

“What happened to you?” She queried. But he stood silent and unmoving. “What did you do…?” She asked instead.

The disfigured man let out a sudden and unsettling layered chuckle, emitting from whatever scarred remnants of vocal cords were left in his throat and from the distorted otherworldly voice in unison, it sent chills down Chris’ spine. He turned, returning his gaze to her, still leaning against the shelving. “Progress..” Was all that was said before he was stalking off to an unexplored section of the room they were in, vanishing behind the maze-like wall of books.

Was this her chance to escape? Was this a trap? Should she follow? Lost in her own debate over what the right action was, she hardly noticed herself walking towards to follow the mysterious man. But she was curious, she was intrigued. She had ventured here to pick at Winter’s research and possessions, but was presented with the man himself against all odds, how could she not investigate such a curious change in events?

Rounding the corner, she found him now sitting on an antique sofa with it’s back to a decorative fireplace- flames whipping and embers crackling, highlighting his sinister profile. Those back-lit eyes once again piercing into her. “So then, young thief..” the words felt dripping with venomous spite. “Are you with those sailors who continue to hound me? Thought you could pick at the remnants of what is mine with me out of the way?”

Those sailors? Chris searched the back of mind for any possible reference. Could he be referring to The Brotherhood of Phoenician Sailors? It was Chris’ turn to let out a sudden and quite inappropriate laugh. The Phoenicians, yet another faction of the secret world of the supernatural and power, but hardly what one might call a confident group.

Winter said nothing in response to her outburst, but gripped the cane he rested his hand upon a little more tightly. “I’m sorry..” Chris expressed. “No, no no I’m not affiliated with them.. in fact, I’m not really affiliated with any particular faction or group… I’m just, a free wanderer of sorts. Mixed up in the affairs of the underworld.” Chris gripped the handle of her weapon as a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “I guess.. it’s not entirely wrong to accuse me of being a thief, though. I came here searching for information. The park seemed so shunned and forgotten… I wasn’t expecting my presence to truly be of any concern, and much less, to find someone, alive. You are alive are you not? I’m usually pretty good at identifying ghosts but..”

Her rambling was cut short as Winter stood from where he sat. Chris stepped back in alarm despite there being a good 4 feet between them still. “Enough” his voice ringing more true to that of disinterest than the irritation one might expect.

He pointed his cane towards Chris, to which she drew her weapon and took a more defensive stance towards the clear act of aggression. Nathaniel Winter did fancy himself becoming a magus, it wasn’t entirely a stretch to assume the cane he held was more than a simple means of support or ornamental display, but a weapon for channeling anima into magic. But just as quickly as he had raised it to her, he lowered it. Chris could see emotion flash in his eyes, something that made her relax.

“The park is hungry… the park is always hungry..” He stepped towards her, but there was no menace in his voice or body language, no aggression… there was fear. “So tell me why.. ” He wrapped a hand tightly around Chris’ shoulder, causing her to stiffen from the sudden closeness and contact, but not so tight as to hurt her. “Why is the park silent?”

“Silent..?” She couldn’t help but to glance at the long-fingered hand grasping her before looking back up into those dark eyes. “Implying..it usually isn’t?”

“This land is alive.. it breaths, it feeds. It speaks…silent, subtle, trenchant, enthralling..”

Realization came to her at last. “Oh.. my ward!” without even considering the hand that still gripped her shoulder, she turned on a heel until her back was to him, causing the monstrous man to pull his hand back. She proceeded to lift a small portion of the shirt that covered her back, revealing a rather intricate tattoo, emitting a very fine blue light from the various active inscriptions etched into her skin. Winter could only stare, in awe or bafflement Chris couldn’t quite tell. “I’m not really a magic user.. I specialize in defensive warding and dispelling magic. This is more of a passive ward for suppressing malevolent spirits, keyword being malevolent since I don’t really wish to waltz around putting a damper on all spirits…”

“It’s a bit of a in-progress work, learning as I go and fine tuning-” A finger tip brushed against the bare skin of her back over a scar, a previous piece of the inscription that had since been removed. “-it!”  
Chris leaped forward pulling her shirt down and turning back towards the man. She admitted she hadn’t fully considered the fact she was lifting her shirt to someone, but certainly didn’t expect the very direct invasion of her personal space. A blush on her face, she couldn’t quite decide on whether she was embarrassed or furious.

The expression on Winter’s face was indiscernible, locked into a permanent grin, but he had pulled his hand back and only seemed to be staring into the void of the space between them. “I never truly investigated defensive magic… I sought power to obtain my goals. Pouring every vast resource at my disposal into obtaining what I had been denied, leading me to…this” his gaze focused on his own hand before lifting to look towards Chris for a moment then returning to his previous seating position in front of the fireplace. He leaned forward onto his cane, gazing to the floor seemingly in thought.

Chris could only stand in place while staring into what was looking less like a monster by the minute, and more like a broken soul, frantically grasping at their own scattered shards. She closed the space between them, squatting closely in front of him on the dusty floor boards placing herself in a vulnerable state one might do with a frightened animal or child. “You told me the park hungers… how does it feed?”

Winter’s eyes remained focused on his cane, silent.

“You’ve killed, haven’t you? This land.. you’re a part of it, it’s a part of you.. That’s how you’re alive, that’s why you’re..” Chris stuttered in her assessment as Winter’s eyes shot back into her own, cold and predatory much like earlier. Chris reconsidered her words, there was no true need to address the elephant in the room. Best to not poke at a frightened animal. “… that’s why you’re wondering about the ward. Your connection to whatever inhabits this land has been suppressed by my presence here, you mind is clearing, isn’t it?”

His eyes softened, however much they could before searching the room surrounding them, the light brightening within them, his already unnaturally wide smile stretching just a little wider before returning his focus to Chris. “Young lady, inquisitive not-a-thief… what would you have to say, to a trade?”


End file.
